


My Monster

by heeroluva



Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Suicide, ToT: Monster Mash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Orochimaru always gets what he wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mornelithe_falconsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/gifts).



> See end note for warning.

Sakumo awoke, gasping for breath, lungs seizing as though they’d forgotten to breathe. Pain unlikely anything he’d ever experienced raced across his nerves.

Long minutes passed before the pain finally began to fade and Sakumo could form thoughts about anything other than the agony that consumed him. In an attempt to take stock of his body, Sakumo tried and failed to move, his body refusing to act on his wishes. Even his eyes refused to open. Where was he? How had he gotten here? What had been done to him?

In a rush, the memories returned to him, and Sakumo almost wished for the return of the agony in the face of them. To remember his shame, his weakness, to remember the sensation of the tanto sliding deep into his gut and the creeping coldness that had overtaken him as his lifeblood had escaped his body, it was too much.

This was wrong, all wrong; Sakumo should have been dead. Pain flared again, rising rapidly. Maybe this was the afterlife, and this was his to be his endless torment.

 

  
Maybe Sakumo passed out, maybe he just drifted in the agony, but the next thing he knew there was warmth on both his hands, warmth that flood outward until it consumed him, driving the pain away. It was a relief until it wasn’t, until it became its own kind of pain, and Sakumo tried to cry out and struggle against nothing.

There was a sound, a murmur maybe. Sakumo welcomed the consuming blackness.

 

  
Sakumo awoke shivering and tried reaching for his blanket, momentarily wondering if Kakashi had made off with it again. But no, that was—

Eyes snapping open when he found he couldn't move, Sakumo groaned as the low light stabbed into his eyes like needles. Blinking against the tears, his eyes struggled to focus on the blurry form kneeling at his side. Finally, finally Sakumo’s eyes made sense of the shape at his side. No, he wouldn’t have— NO!

“What have you done, Orochimaru?!” Sakumo tried to shout, but the words were barely more than a broken whisper ripped from his throat.

It was enough to make Orochimaru start, his eyes snapping open as he was roused from his doze.

“Edo Tensei is forbidden. Who did you sacrifice for me?”

The cruel smirk, the carefully constructed mask that slid across Orochimaru’s face, did not hide the pain in his eyes, and knowing that he was the cause of it, might have made Sakumo’s stomach twist at any other time, but not now, not if what he feared was true.

“It is good to finally know how little you think of me, Hatake-san.”

It had been years since Orochimaru had called him, and Sakumo look, really looked at Orochimaru, and it was only then that Sakumo noticed just how ragged Orochimaru looked, his normally pale skin having taken on a greyish hue making him look far too corpselike.

But what drew Sakumo attention most was the dark swirl of seals well beyond his meager knowledge that wound its way across Orochimaru’s body. Sakumo eyes followed the trail down to Orochimaru’s hand which still grasped his own, the seals trailing across Sakumo’s own body. It was only then that he realized that it was Kakashi that knelt to his right, small hand curled over his own, body also covered in seals and nearly as ashen as Orochimaru’s, eyes closed but still clearly breathing.

“What have you done, Orochimaru?!” Sakumo repeated again, this time managing the volume he was after.

Kakashi startled at the sound, eyes flying open. “Father!”

“Do not move,” Orochimaru reminded Kakashi. “The ritual is not yet complete.”

Kakashi all but vibrated with his need to move, but resolutely remained still as his fingers clenched tighter around his father’s, eye moving between him and Orochimaru.

Addressing Sakumo, Orochimaru said, “I did what I must to ensure the longevity of this clan. Did you stop to think what this would do to Kakashi, to—” _me?_ was left hanging, unsaid, bitten off. “Jiraiya and I came up with this. In the event that one of our team fell, we could insure their continued survival.”

“At what cost?”

Orochimaru’s mouth opened, his lips moving, but Sakumo could not hear it as darkness once again swept him away.

 

  
Sakumo awoke to warmth and a weight on his chest. Slowly opening his eyes, he found Kakashi curled up on his chest, head tucked beneath his chin.

Guilt clawed at Sakumo, realizing just how close he’d come to leaving Kakashi behind.

“You’re awake.”

Head turning to the side, in the darkness of the room Sakumo could barely make out the form of Orochimaru kneeling at the edge of his futon. “Come here,” Sakumo beckoned with a hand that he pulled from beneath the blanket.

Hesitantly Orochimaru shuffled closer before his hand closed tightly, almost desperately over his.

I caused this, Sakumo realized with a pang of regret. But he had to know. “Tell me the cost.”

“Half of our lifeforce.”

“Kakashi is _four_ years old,” Sakumo snapped.

“And it was a shattered four year old who shared with me why he thinks you did it, how he thought his distance and my absence drove you to this. Soon Kakashi will be a shinobi of this village, and you know better than most how rare it is for shinobi to reach old age. He made his choice. ”

“Because you forced him into it.”

“No, Hatake-san, you forced him into it. Do you know that I returned from my mission to find Kakashi kneeling in a pool of your cooling blood? Maybe I’m the monster this village names me, but after what you did, you have no right to judge me for my choices.”

Kakashi suddenly whimpered, fingers tightening in the folds of Sakumo’s robes. “Father, please. Father, don’t leave me.”

Eyes clenched shut against the sudden threat of tears, Sakumo raised his hand to Kakashi’s head, petting back his hair soothingly. “Shh. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” What kind of father was he to put his son through this; what kind of person was he to put his lover through this?

Silence reigned for long minutes before Orochimaru finally spoke. “Why?”

Such a simple question yet so loaded. There were many answers, many excuses. Finally Sakumo settled on: “I’m not as strong as you.”

“I do not understand. Your genius is not inferior to mine. While our interests mostly lie in different areas of study, where they do overlap, you are both considerably stronger and considerably more experienced.”

“No, not physical strength. You don’t care what the people of this village think of you.”

“Why should I care about the words of people I don’t care about?”

“I envy you for that. No matter how hard I tried, I can’t _not_ care.”

“They don’t deserve your loyalty.”

“Do not speak of treason to me!”

“Is it treason when they turn their back on you?”

“I am loyal to this village, no matter what they think of me.”

“No,” Orochimaru denied. “If you were loyal you would have stood strong and faced them head held high. Instead you took the coward’s path.”

Sakumo opened his mouth to protest, to be indignant, but could not force the words out in face of the truth. “Yes. I was a coward, selfish and hurting. I was not strong enough. I abandoned my duties, my son… you.”

“You tried to leave me.” There was a thickness to Orochimaru’s voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“If I’d been minutes later, it would have been too late. Your death would have broken Kakashi, broken me. I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

It hurt Sakumo to hear those words, but he knew what’d he’d done was a huge breach of trust, especially to Orochimaru who opened his heart to so few. “Kakashi would have had you.”

“What comfort can a broken man give a broken child in the face of his father’s suicide?”

“I’m sorry,” Sakumo said again.

“No!” Orochimaru snapped. “I do not want to hear your platitudes. If you are sorry, you will act on it. You will live, and you will hurt, and you will lean on me when the burden of the village’s opinion becomes too much because my strength can support us both. And if luck if on your side, you will live a long life and see your son have children of his own.”

“Come here,” Sakumo said, tugging on Orochimaru’s hand. When Orochimaru refused to budge, Sakumo added. “Please lay with me. I have need of your strength.”

Orochimaru didn’t climb between the covers, instead stretching out on top of them at Sakumo’s side. Orochimaru rested his head near Kakashi’s on Sakumo’s chest.

Over his heart, Sakumo realized. They were listening to his heartbeat. Carefully he raised his hand before settling it on Orochimaru’s head and slowly ran his fingers through the length of it. Normally it was one of Orochimaru’s favorite things, but now he remained tense against Sakumo’s side. His fault, all of this was his fault.

But no, it was those thoughts that started this. Sakumo couldn’t, wouldn’t go down this path again. Seeing the pain he’d caused, hardened his resolve. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I have to say it now. I can’t promise I’m okay. That I’ve got my head on straight, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry for my mistrust, for thinking the worst of you. Thank you for saving me, for saving this clan. I was so lost in my head, in my grief, I didn’t think. And then what I said was cruel and unwarranted. I will make no excuses. You don’t deserve my distrust.” Sakumo could feel Orochimaru’s shrug against his side. 

“It is no worse than what the villages says about me.”

“I am not the village. You let me in, risked your heart for me. And I proved myself unworthy of it. I will make it up to you, somehow, someday, if you’ll let me.”

Orochimaru’s laugh held anything but amusement. “You can try.” Orochimaru raised his hand and placed it on top of Sakumo’s where it rested on Kakashi’s head. “Which of us is the bigger fool, do you think? You for loving a monster, or me for believing that a monster deserved to be loved?”

Sakumo knew better than to rise to the bait. There was no winning when Orochimaru was in this mood. Instead Sakumo kept up the steady motion of his hand, fingers combing through Orochimaru’s dark hair. “My monster,” Sakumo murmured.

Orochimaru stiffened for a moment before he let out an amused snort. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure how to tag this, but a four year old agrees to give up half his lifeforce to save his father. 
> 
> Written for the following prompts: resurrection, saved at the last second, and Orochimaru doesn't think he's capable of love until he falls headfirst into.


End file.
